


Hand in hand

by Just_Us



Category: GOT7
Genre: Bottom Mark - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oneshot, Scratching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:22:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Us/pseuds/Just_Us
Summary: Mark is very quiet in bed; Jackson doesn't mind.





	Hand in hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Markipoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markipoo/gifts).



Mark is very  _quiet_  in bed.  
  
It unnerved Jackson a bit the first time they were together, even though he had known Mark was new to it and so  _shy_  about everything. But Mark just wasn’t noisy, especially not the way Jackson was. And over the years he’s figured out how to get Mark louder, how to make him moan and raise his voice, but it’s still rare.  
  
(Even rarer are the times Jackson’s teased Mark to screaming, it’s just difficult to get him to really let go but he has a few times and it was  _wonderful,_ to say the least.)  
  
He doesn’t need to be loud, though, to get his message across. Mark’s hands work perfectly well like that, blunt fingernails digging into Jackson’s shoulders and scraping down his back as Mark gasps and arches beneath him, lip caught between his teeth and strong thighs twitching.  
  
_Harder_  slips out of Mark’s mouth, followed by choked-off words in — Jackson hadn’t even known Mark  _knew_  how to say that in Mandarin, but it was so quiet, sounds barely more than shaped breath, and cut off again when Mark bites into his lip. Jackson wishes he wouldn’t do that, Mark’s lips are  _so_ nice and it’s a shame to see them chewed up because he doesn’t trust himself to make noise, but now’s not the time to broach the subject and besides it doesn’t mean it hurts and Jackson knows how to stop him doing it, anyway.  
  
How to stop that is this: Kiss him, kiss Mark until neither of them can breathe.

Jackson’s arms tremble with the effort of pushing forward just enough that he can even reach Mark’s mouth but Mark bends to meet him and sighs into his mouth and his nails drag across the willowy stretch of Jackson's back, leaving trails of light, stinging feeling. He’s so  _warm_  around Jackson, legs around his waist and arms at his back and lips to lips, not like the cold fingers he pokes Jackson with in the morning if he’s not out of bed fast enough but warm and sweet and almost truly pliable and Jackson can’t help holding the kiss if he’s going to keep thinking like that, so he does.  
  
Mark digs in harder when he’s close and it actually does hurt a little but not in a bad way at all, more in an  _ow_ -but-that’s-good way and he keeps making these insistent little noises in the back of his throat and he’s  _clinging_  so tightly it’s really kind of hard for Jackson to move and that’s also not so bad anyway and not  _so_  hard that Jackson can’t slide a hand down between them — and, ah, yeah, it’s kind of difficult to get it moving but that does mean he gets a chance to feel the muscles in Mark’s abdomen tense and flutter before going further down and wrapping around his cock.  
  
Jackson pulls back, just enough to watch because this is really his favorite part (though choosing is still very hard). Mark bucks beneath him and it’s three,  _four_  strokes before he comes over Jackson’s fingers, body and mouth and eyes open and nails scraping down Jackson’s back one last time. Jackson follows him soon after, pressing close and nuzzling little kisses into the underside of his jaw and letting the soft pleasure roll over him. After, he feels a little lightheaded and slow, like a glass of wine after a really good, big meal, and just sinks into Mark’s breathing, the gentle movements of his sturdy chest.  
  
It takes him a minute to realize that his back actually does sting, but it still doesn’t seem all that urgent. Mark prods him gently in the shoulder and says something about showering, and even though that means getting up and not being warm and effort and movement Jackson does anyway. On the way into the shower he gets a quick look at his back, and oh.  
  
Well.  
  
He’s surprised it doesn’t sting more, if it looks like that — long pink marks stretching along his back, like a series of messy chevrons with their points somewhere in the vicinity of his spine except for the ones that are more straight up and down and — yeah, now that he’s thinking about it, there’s the sting — but it’s — it makes something pleasant and feathery unfurl behind his ribs, to think that Mark did that, gave him that. To think that tomorrow he’ll still have these under his shirt (if he puts one on, which he might not unless Mark makes him).  
  
Mark notices not long after Jackson does, and winces, apologizing softly while his big hands rub conditioner into Jackson’s hair. Jackson bats him on whatever part of his body he can reach with his eyes closed and his back to Mark, which if he had to guess would be somewhere just under the ribs and tells him not to, he doesn’t have to and it doesn’t hurt (well, it does a little but he doesn’t really want to try and milk it) and besides he likes it and Mark hums and then adds a couple seconds later that it does  _not_  mean Jackson gets to call him kitten or cat or anything else of that nature and Jackson pretends to sulk about it.  
  
And besides, he thinks later with Mark’s body curled around his and Mark nosing softly at the curls at the nape of Jackson’s neck and their legs tangled up together, it’s also nice being someone who Mark can hold onto.


End file.
